


BONDage

by Dusty



Category: Casino Royale (2006), James Bond (Craig movies), Quantum of Solace (2008)
Genre: Dom!James, Established Relationship, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Light Bondage, M is a very naughty girl, Spanking, Stand Alone
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-04-13
Updated: 2013-04-13
Packaged: 2017-12-08 09:59:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,748
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/760074
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dusty/pseuds/Dusty
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Prompt on tumblr went a little something like this:<br/>- First one to write fic where he’s binding M’s wrists with that tie wins.<br/>- Delicate. But maybe she needs an attitude adjustment…</p>
            </blockquote>





	BONDage

He was pacing in his hotel room, trying not to pout. She’d told him off in front of everyone. He was only doing his job. What was she trying to prove? That she could control him? That he couldn’t run rings around her? They both knew he could.

He smirked. But that really wasn’t the point. He hadn’t done anything wrong. That little performance was more about her saving face and had nothing to do with the job in hand. That wasn’t like her and it wasn’t good enough. He’d taken bollocking after bollocking from her, and she was usually right to scold him. Not this time.

He loosened his tie, feeling oppressed by the tropical heat and the dressing down she'd given him. He glared at his own reflection in the mirror and made a decision.

He picked up his phone and dialled. “M? I’m sorry about earlier. I need to see you. Now, please.”

He hung up, knowing she’d rise to the bait. He rarely ‘sent' for her. But he was genuinely cross. He frowned for a moment, pouring a drink. No, he wasn’t cross, he was concerned. Since when did M put her reputation in front of the job? Since when did she shame her agents to make herself look better?

He raised an eyebrow. Of course. She was smacking him down for one reason only. The lady doth protest too much: the last thing she’d want is to be accused of favouritism. So she deliberately put him down. Publicly.

“We’ll see about that,” he mumbled, drinking the whiskey down in one.

There was a knock at the door. He took a deep breath. This would require some degree of sensitivity, even if he did fundamentally just want to spank her…

He opened the door. She stood there, shoulders back, emanating bravado.

He stepped to one side. “Thanks for coming,” he said evenly, ushering her in. She responded without a word and walked into his room, taking in the delightful interior décor of his gratuitously luxuriant hotel with a sneer.

He closed the door and walked up to her nonchalantly. She fixed him with a stare.

“You really shouldn’t have spoken to me like that,” she said curtly.

He breathed deeply, eager to get through to her. “M,” he said softly, reassuring her with kind eyes. “All I said was that you didn’t have all the facts. It wasn’t an attack or an insult, it was stating the truth.”

“You made me look a fool,” she said unemotionally.

“No I didn’t,” he continued gently. “You managed that all by yourself when you overreacted.”

Her eyes widened and she gazed at him forlornly. His tone was working. She wasn’t getting defensive. Instead she simply sat down on the end of the bed with a sigh of resignation.

“Oh, I know. I’m sorry, James.”

 _Victory_ , thought James. He smiled warmly at her. He tried not to laugh as he noticed that the bed was so high up her legs didn’t quite reach the ground.

She glanced up, rubbing her hands together absent-mindedly. “I don’t know what happened,” she said. “I suddenly felt exposed, I think.”

He sat down next to her and kissed her on the lips. “Working a little too hard? Guilt eating away at you for fucking an agent?”

“Oh shut up,” she muttered, still wringing her hands.

He placed his hand on hers to still them. “It’s all right,” he soothed. “But that can’t happen again. It would become too obvious. Apart from anything else you prevented me from doing my job and we agreed that would never happen.”

“I know,” she said with a tone of despair. “I really slipped up.”

“Yes you did,” he chided. He squeezed her hands. “All OK now. Tanner has what he needs. Mission accomplished. And I deserve a gold star.”

She looked right at him, her eyes warm. “Yes you do,” she said sweetly. They melted into a tender and sensual kiss. He forgot all about her harsh words as his tongue teased hers, feeling the heat of her body close to his.

He broke off the kiss and studied her. She looked at him questioningly.

“You’ve been working too hard,” he said suddenly. 

“Bond…”

“No," he said, standing up. "This isn’t like you and wouldn’t have happened if you’d had so much as half a day off in the last _I don’t know how many_ weeks.”

She huffed, fiddling with her fingers again.

He continued. “Or a decent night’s sleep.”

“With you in my life?” she said sharply. “How am I supposed to sleep? You’re either tearing around causing diplomatic incidents or interfering with me.”

“Interfering with you?” His tone was stern. He put his hands on his hips.

She blushed and squirmed, her hands twisting in her lap.

“Stop fidgeting,” he scolded, pointing a finger at her. He looked very cross now. “Interfering with you?” he muttered with a cold laugh. “You make me sound like a fucking priest.”

She tittered, then stopped herself when she saw him glaring at her. “I didn’t mean it like that. I just meant… you’re distracting.”

“So it’s my fault that you’re behaving so badly?”

She sighed, glancing at him apologetically. “No of course it isn’t.” She unconsciously raised her finger to her mouth and started chewing a nail.

“If you don’t stop that I’ll make you sit on your hands,” he warned, pointing his finger again.

With a glare of indignation she forced her hands back into her lap, feeling oddly girlish.

He ground his teeth, none too pleased. Feeling further frustrated, he tugged at his tie, unthreading it completely so it hung loose about his shoulders. He unfastened his top button and exhaled heavily.

“Bond,” said M, throat dry. “I am sorry.”

“I know you are,” he said. “But all I care about now is avoiding a repeat performance. Which means you not being too tired to conduct yourself properly.”

She stood abruptly, nostrils flaring. On another occasion he might have recoiled, but this time he was ready for her. 

“How dare you?” she said. “How dare you insinuate I can’t do my job?”

“Because nobody can unless they’re properly rested. You had a night flight, followed by back to back fire-fighting all day, followed by castigating your agents…”

“All right!” she shouted. She flopped down on the bed and folded her arms. James regarded her, trying not to smile at her rather adorable sulk.

“So you admit you’re in the wrong?” he prompted. “Not just about shaming me earlier, but about taking care of yourself? We have talked about this before…”

She sucked in her cheeks, her only apparent line of defence. He watched her shuffle slightly on the bed. She was clearly determined not to admit anything. For wont of anything else to do, she spread her hand out in front of her to check her nails, feigning indifference.

“M…” Bond growled his warning.

Unnerved by the tone of his voice, she put her finger back in her mouth again for a good nibble.

He was immediately on her. He whipped her hand away from her mouth and slapped her wrist sharply.

“Ow!” she cried.

“Right,” he said, taking her other hand and lifting her onto her feet. “I’ve had enough of this. You’re being a bloody brat today.”

He pulled off his tie and deftly wrapped it around her wrists.

“What are you doing?” she said with a gasp.

“What I should have done as soon as you arrived.”

He tightened the expensive silk, binding her wrists firmly, and sat her back down on the bed with a push.

“Now you can’t fidget,” he said, eyes flashing at her. “I’m going to ask you again. Are you in the wrong?”

She gazed at him breathlessly. He’d bloody tied her up. If she said no, she knew she’d really be in trouble. But she wasn’t so sure that saying yes would work out all too well either. She sighed and looked at him innocently.

“Yes, Mr Bond,” she said.

James felt his cock twitch. He cleared his throat and tried to remember how to breathe. _Right._

“Then you’ll have to be punished, won’t you?”

Her stomach fluttered. He still looked suave; in complete control yet quite deadly.

“Yes, Mr Bond,” she said again, though this time the husk in her voice made her words barely audible.

He took it as a compliment.

She started to realised just how much she’d been fidgeting; the impulse to play with her hands coming, yet going nowhere due to her binds. She bit her lip. She really wasn’t on form. She could blame the steaming hot operative standing in front of her, but he was right. It wasn’t all his fault.

She gave him her best ‘I didn’t mean it’ look and hoped for the best.

He sauntered towards her, delicious threat in his eyes. He pulled her up by the arms again, taking care not to hurt her, and spun her around.

“Put your hands above your head,” he breathed.

She obeyed him. She felt sweet surrender trickle through her.

He artfully manhandled her so she was bending over the bed, her arms outstretched ahead of her. Her feet scrambled on the carpet for balance. She whimpered into the bedspread, turning her head so she could breathe easily. As she did so, she caught his eye. He was looking at her lovingly.

He remembered himself and gave her a punishing scowl. She felt a hard smack land on her trouser clad bottom.

“This isn’t good enough, Ms Mansfield,” he said with another smack. She jerked and gasped. “I expect better from you in future.” He swatted her firmly; repeatedly. “I won’t have you letting yourself down. Is that clear?”

She was breathing hard, trying to stay still despite her body’s protestations. “Yes, sir,” she keened.

She was rewarded with three hard smacks.

“James!” she cried out.

She leaned in to take a good look at her. Her eyes were shining, her lips parted and swollen. Her cheeks pink. She was beautiful.

“Yes?” he asked softly. She merely blinked at him. He gazed at her. Her eyes were cloudy.

He smirked. Another smack, firmly on the seat of her trousers. She grunted. With a raised eyebrow, he reached around and unfastened her fly, tugging the trousers down.

She wriggled, emitting breathy moans. He brought his hand down on her bottom again, this time over her lacy white knickers. Her reddening flesh offset them perfectly, he considered. He tapped each buttock in turn, eliciting little squeaks. She was struggling to stay in place, however.

“Keep still,” he admonished with a firmer smack. She gasped loudly, and he frowned, slipping her underwear down and out of the way. Two rosy globes quivered back at him.

“No,” she breathed, squirming on the bed.

He raised an eyebrow. “No?” he questioned. She knew exactly the word to say to put a stop to this, and she wasn’t saying it. Quite the opposite, apparently.

She wriggled, then without warning kicked out her leg and caught him in the shin.

“Ow! You bloody little…” he hopped for a moment, rubbing his leg. She almost stopped breathing as he went quiet. She knew what he was going to do next. She screwed her eyes shut and braced herself.

Soon enough, he caught her, sat down and flipped her so she was dangling across his knee, her wrists still held together by his tie.

“Right, Missy,” he said sternly, holding her tight. He raised his hand. An unyielding succession of stinging smacks rained down on her naked rear, his warm palm administering a steady and uncompromising punishment. Her little shouts and cries were more than satisfying to him. He aimed a few swats at her upper thighs as well, for good measure.

“ _I’m sorry, I’m sorry, ow ow ow ow_ …” she intoned, desperate to protect her bottom with her hands. Sadly, he’d thought of that.

She bucked and whimpered, dizzy from being handled this way by James as much as from being upside down. "Ow! Ow!"

He slowed down. “ _Minx,_ ” he scolded. He gave her another few taps before rubbing circles on her punished flesh. “Bad girl.”

He noticed her body tense at his words. She rolled her hips. His breath hitched as he felt his cock harden.

“Up,” he said softly, alerting her to his next move, given she was still restrained and couldn't comply. He brought her the right way up and pivoted with her, lying her tenderly down on the bed, face up. The first thing he noticed was that her pussy was glistening. That was it. He was achingly hard. He set about ridding her of her of the clothing currently pooled around her ankles, throwing it all well out of the way.

She drew her feet up, apprehensive. He stood at the foot of the bed looking quite dishevelled, fucking her with his eyes. They stared at one another. Without breaking eye contact, he unbuckled his belt and unzipped his fly.

“You’re really going to get it now,” he rasped.

She groaned loudly, her hips rocking as she trembled.

He removed his suit jacket and crawled onto the bed on all fours in one mesmerising manoeuvre, his erection bobbing out proudly. His eyes remained on hers as he pushed his trousers down around his thighs and settled between her legs, careful to hover over her body. She lay, transfixed, as he took her bound wrists in one hand and hooked them around his neck. His eyes glinted. Still propped up with one arm, he wrapped his fingers around his cock, and sought out her sex.

They were panting, eyes still locked. She’d barely been touched; not a kiss, not a caress. He explored with the tip of his cock only, gliding it over her vulva and testing the wet heat.

She glanced down her body to see him aligning himself as she rubbed back against the contact. She mewled and her eyes drifted closed a moment. When she opened them, he was peering at her, pure lust in his eyes. 

With one severe look, he sank into her. They both gave a guttural cry; their bodies suddenly thrown into deep pleasure. They waited a moment to adjust, then James pulled back. With thoroughly dirty look, he slammed back in. She grunted, her hands frantically trying to cling onto him. He did it again, and again, and again. She raised her legs up and out, welcoming him deeply, her tied hands tumbling back over his neck and landing above her head. He was buried in her.

Her moans became louder and sharper as he thrust almost viciously. He started to match her volume as his body began to race him, his own throaty shouts rebounding off hotel the walls.

She had no choice but to lie there and be fucked, and they both knew it. She was out of her mind with arousal, James wild on top of her. He was losing it, she could tell. He was going to come, satisfy himself and leave her like this, mad with desire, tied up on his bed.

She flexed her hips, moaning at the thought, and his relentless pounding hit home, creating an unstoppable crescendo. Her short pleasured shouts broke into one long howl as her orgasm crashed through her. Her body shook with the force of her release and she felt her juices seeping from her.

He was mere seconds behind her, ploughing through her climax to achieve his own, her red-hot contractions triggering his own powerful peak. He flung himself against her with a rough yell, spurting copiously inside her.

She wanted to stroke his hair, but her hands were still tied and she didn’t have the strength to lift both arms up. Instead, she lay there; her half dressed, James clothed but severely rumpled. He lay panting, partially collapsed on top of her.

Eventually he peered at her. She looked well and truly fucked, in the best possible sense. She gave him a lopsided grin. He smirked back at her. “Don’t do it again,” he said breathlessly, flopping his head back down on the covers.

She sighed. “I’m not sure your punishments are altogether effective as a deterrent, Mr Bond,” she crooned.

He sniggered into the duvet.

She wriggled her hands. “When are you going to untie me?”

He blinked up at her sleepily with a love-sick smile. “Never,” he whispered.


End file.
